


Phoenix

by Kimmimaru



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), Attempted Murder, Blood, Gen, Poisoning, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 23:16:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16417907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimmimaru/pseuds/Kimmimaru
Summary: Hurt Noct Week Day 5: Teenage Noctis phoenix down’d after an assassination attempt.Noctis is slipped some poison during a wine tasting event.





	Phoenix

**Author's Note:**

> Hmm, not sure if this should be tagged as underage drinking or not since no one's actually technically drinking...I dunno. I hope this is ok, I'm still a bit out of it from my chest infection so it may be as rushed as the others I've been submitting for this week. Either way, I hope you enjoy it.

Noctis sighed heavily, leaning against a nearby wall as he held his phone to his ear. On the other end he heard Prompto whine in sympathy,

 

“Dude, that sucks. I was really looking forward to trying out the new Assassins Creed with you.”

 

“Yeah, I know. Sorry.”

 

“It's cool, we could totally do it another day.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“So, how come you're crying off?”

 

“Ugh, I'm stuck going to this stupid wine tasting gig. It's just so that the press can get pictures of me and dad doing something 'fun' together and to promote this new vineyard that's opened up. They give most of their profits to a refugee charity, it'll look good in all the magazines.”

 

“Still, it's gonna be a good time to get drunk!”

 

“Ha, if only. Man, my dad'd have my ass if I got drunk. I don't even like wine, it all tastes like sour grapes.”

 

“You have my condolences, dude.”

 

“Thanks,” Noctis smiled, kicking at a stone that was lodged deep into the soil, “I'll see you around though,”

 

“Yeah, of course. I gotta go, sounds like my parents are home.”

 

“Oh? I didn't know they were due back yet.”

 

“Yeah, neither did I. I'll go find out what they want, text later?”

 

“Sure.”

 

They hung up just as Ignis stepped around the corner of the huge barn where they made the wine, Noctis looked up and grimaced as his advisor approached, “Now, now, Noct. Put on a happy face for the cameras.” Ignis smiled, beckoning the prince closer, “Your father's looking for you,” He muttered into his ear as he brushed lint from the shoulder of Noctis' shirt, “It's time.”

 

“Great. Let's get this over with then,” Noctis straightened out his clothes and held his head high, putting on his royal mask as he approached the group standing in front of a large fold out table. The sky was high, clear and blue, the sun warming the back of Noctis' neck. Birds twittered in the bushes and it was unnaturally quiet, Noctis was used to the sounds of the city surrounding him so out here close to the wall, it was strange.

 

“Ah, Noctis!”

 

Noctis smiled as he approached his dad who looked odd indeed dressed in what passed as casual for a king. He wore a black shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows with a pair of dark grey trousers. His beard was as neatly trimmed as ever and his eyes sparkled in a way that told Noctis he was already more than a little tipsy. The crown upon his head flashed in the sunlight as he turned and introduced his son to the press and the owner of the vineyard. The owner was a tall, almost skeletal looking man with a slight moustache and wavy hair the colour of damp straw. He smiled broadly as he took Noctis' hand in his own, his skin as dry as old parchment. His dark eyes looked the prince up and down as if judging him before he offered a half-assed bow that would have been an insult in any other situation. Ignis bristled at Noctis' side, offended at the man's lack of manners far more than Noctis was, “So, shall we begin?” The man asked, eyes moving around and an eyebrow rising in question.  
  
“Yes, yes, lets.” Regis agreed magnanimously, earning him a well-hidden glare from his Shield. Regis ignored him and went over to the table, Noctis following.  
  
“Now, this is our white,” The man lifted up the green-tinted bottle, he poured two small glasses and handed them to both King and Prince, “As you can see it's a rather cheeky little number. The crisp scent of citrus and lightness truly lends itself to a day such as this.”

 

Noctis took his glass and eyed the rest of the group, his father swirled the golden liquid around and inhaled deeply, Noctis imitated him nervously. He listened to his father describe the smell but all he could smell was alcohol, he wondered if there was something wrong with him. Regis took a small sip, swilling it around his mouth before spitting it into a silver bowl provided to him by one of the vineyard workers. Noctis took a sip, trying hard to hide his disgust. It was tart, not at all what his father and the wine maker were saying. It tasted of sour grapes and little else. He spit the wine into the bowl and nodded along politely with all the inane chatter. His gaze slid to Ignis who was sipping his own glass speculatively, brow creased a little, “This would make for a rather interesting cooking wine, if I do say so myself.” He muttered in Noctis' ear as he placed his glass back, a smirk playing around his lips, Noctis hid his own by faking a cough.

 

The whole event took hours, much to Noctis' chagrin. He managed, somehow, to keep up the facade of interested prince until it was almost evening and time to return to the citadel.

 

It was on the way back to the car that he began to feel weird. It began as a sudden cramp in his stomach as they descended the hill that the vineyard sat atop, down the winding road towards the convoy of royal cars. He stumbled, falling into Ignis with a gasp. Ignis caught him, a concerned frown marring his face but before he could speak Noctis was bent double as agony stabbed at his insides. He retched, heaving and vomited all over Ignis' shoes. “Dear gods, Noct!”

 

Noctis groaned, wiping his mouth with a shaky hand before trying to put weight on his trembling legs. He failed, falling to the floor with a thud that rattled his bones. A wave of heat and pain crashed over him until he was on all fours, panting and retching; unable to stop. Ignis knelt beside him, putting a hand over his forehead. The world see-sawed violently, causing Noctis to sway and fall against his advisor with a groan. Sweat beaded at his temples, falling into his burning eyes. He blinked sluggishly, heart hammering inside his chest as if it could escape.

 

“Noct!”

 

“Your highness!”

 

“What's wrong with him?”

 

“What happened?”

 

Noctis couldn't really make out everything everyone was saying, it was all jumble of sound, colour and movement. He vomited again, this time seeing a splash of bright red instead of his dinner. He cried out, tears squeezing their way past his eyelids hands clutching at his stomach as agony rolled over him again and again.   
  
Someone, Noctis didn't know who, lifted him in strong arms and he felt himself move through the air. His breath was rapid and shallow, chest unable to fully draw in air. He gazed up at the sky, seeing the first star of the evening before darkness ate away at his vision and his awareness faded.  
  
Ignis cradled Noctis against his chest as the car sped down the roads, swerving around corners and forcing it's passengers to hold on for dear life. Regis sat beside him, pale and eyes darting from his son to the window and back again. Noctis was white, sweaty and had a disturbing rattle in his chest with each laboured breath. Blood trickled down his chin and from his nose, occasionally he coughed up thick red liquid. Ignis clutched at him, terror seizing his heart and lungs as he continuously checked Noctis' breathing.

 

When they reached the citadel Regis jumped out the car almost before it had come to a complete stop. He ran around the side and yanked open the door before Clarus could do it for him, his arms reached inside and he dragged Noctis out and into a tight embrace. Noctis was as limp as a rag doll, head lolling on his neck and skin turning grey. Regis limped towards the stairs where several white clad doctors awaited them with nervous eyes.   
  
“Your majesty-”  
  
“Prepare a room. I believe he has been poisoned.”   
  
The doctors scattered while Regis made his way into the entrance hall of the citadel, Ignis and Clarus kept close to his heels as people turned to stare with wide eyes as they passed.   
  
Noctis dreamed. He was lying in a void, cool darkness filling his senses. There was no weight, no pain just blissful peace. He couldn't open his eyes and his arms wouldn't obey him but he part of him didn't want to move. He was comfortable, truly at peace for the first time in his short fifteen years of life. No more fear about his rapidly ageing father, no more trepidation about an uncertain future. No more dark patches of deep, abiding depression that sucked at his soul like a vampire and rendered him unable to do so much as bathe himself. He was calm, no longer anxious when surrounded by constant stares of people. No longer fearful of the burden of leading an entire Kingdom at war. He sank deeper, allowing the darkness to engulf him.  
  
Regis watched in horrified silence as the machines the doctors had attached Noctis to started to scream. His heart felt empty, numb as the doctors frantically dashed around, shouting orders and trying to restart his sons heart. His knees felt weak and he stumbled back against the wall as a nurse rushed by with a tray of instruments. His ears rang, a freezing sort of dread squeezing at his heart. He saw glimpses of Noctis' face between the doctors' backs, saw his white skin, his closed eyes and blood stained clothes. He remembered another time when he had seen his son covered in his own blood and the disturbing memory caused his eyes burn with abrupt savagery. A strong, firm hand squeezed his shoulder and he found himself blinking up into Clarus' tense face, “Regis...” He muttered, fingers digging painfully into muscle, “Regis!”   
  
Regis blinked, turning to see the doctors all staring at him, he took a shaky breath and stumbled forward to the bedside. Noctis' shirt was torn open, exposing his thin chest and the imprints of stickers from the heart monitors. Regis reached out, his hand shaking violently as he stroked hair from Noctis' forehead.   
  
“We are...so sorry...” One brave doctor began, her voice cracking a little but Regis ignored her.  
“Regis...” Clarus began, his voice coloured with uncharacteristic uncertainty, “There's still hope.” He said, causing Regis to turn to him and stare at him with eyes blank from shock, “Do you remember that time Cor was hit by that stray lightening spell?”  
  
Regis swallowed past a growing, painful lump in his throat as his fingers curled against his son's cold cheek. His eyes closed and he lowered his head, “The phoenix.” He whispered slowly, his voice thick with emotion.  
  
“The phoenix.” Clarus nodded, “There's one left in storage if we-”  
  
“Go.” Regis ordered, strength returning to his voice as his eyes snapped back open with renewed determination, “Bring it to me.”  
  
Clarus nodded and then strode quickly across the room, yanking the door open and leaving. Regis returned his eyes to his sons body, “You look so much like your mother,” He whispered, brushing his hand through soft, dark hair, “There are...so many things I wish I could tell you about her.” Vaguely he heard the doors open and close again but he ignored it in favour of stroking his sons hair and holding his limp hand, “She used to sing you lullaby's when you were but a babe in arms,” He chuckled wetly, watching as water droplets fell against Noctis' cheek, “She had a beautiful voice, you know. Your birth was a gift, Noctis...a gift from the gods...I will not allow them to take you, not yet.” He squeezed his sons hand tightly, pressing it against his forehead. “Just wait, I will bring you back to me.”  
  
Clarus returned, out of breath but holding a small package wrapped in soft cloth. He held it out to Regis, “We have one chance,” He said breathlessly but Regis took it from him and flipped the cloth aside to reveal a single glowing, golden feather.  
  
“Then let us make it count.” Regis replied, his voice steady as he lay the feather over Noctis' chest, “Please,” He whispered, tightening his grip on his sons hands and lowering his head, “ _Please_ , Noct.”

 

Noctis lay in his pool of darkness, awareness fading slowly. The world around him shivered, when he opened his eyes he watched as something bright drew steadily closer. It was warm, almost too hot compared to the coolness surrounding him. Soft, gentle puffs of warm air wrapped around him and started to lift him up and away from the nothingness. He couldn't fight it, even though he tried. He had no choice but to let himself be carried up and up and up.  
  
Regis felt Noctis' hand twitch, he gasped, eyes opening and blinking the tears away as he watched Noctis' chest heave. He pulled in a desperate lungful of air before coughing violently, his face twisting into a pained grimace. The monitor at his side started up all of sudden, counting out heartbeats that were far too fast. The doctors rushed back into the room, eyes wide in shock as they observed Noctis' eyes flickering open to take in their surroundings.   
  
“Noctis,” Regis breathed, reaching out to cup his sons face, “Noctis, it's ok.”  
  
Noctis took a moment to focus on him but their eyes met he managed a weak little smile, “D-Dad...” He rasped, his voice ruined and a trickle of blood sliding from the corner of his lips.  
  
“Your majesty, we need space so we can help him.”  
  
Regis nodded and reluctantly released Noctis' hand, “It's ok, I will be here. You're going to be ok.” He stepped back and let the medical team take over again. Clarus helped ease him out the door and into a chair in the hallway where his knees gave way and he collapsed with a sob. Clarus held him, one arm wrapped around his shoulders.

 


End file.
